Let's see, it was about 26 years ago, 1985, probably in the month of July or August, the Fuller Brush man rang my doorbell. We were living in Old South but getting ready to move because we had just sold our house. I opened the door and there he stood with his case of goodies. I had heard my Granma talk about the Fuller Brush man most of my life. She always had great things to say about him and his products. I can remember a few times watching my mom deal with a Fuller Brush salesman. She would buy some things occasionally. I don't remember him coming by very often. I had never had a Fuller Brush salesman come to my door before. Well, here he was. Wouldn't you know it and I was getting ready to move off his route. He was a kind, slightly past middle aged man. I told him my story and how sorry I was that I would not be there to do business with him. He told me how much he appreciated that and then gave me a vegetable brush for free and wished me well.
I have used that brush to scrub countless vegetables. I have washed it by hand and in the dishwasher (which may very well have shortened its life!) many many times. It has moved with us to Smyrna as we built our house and has served me well here for 25 years. Today, I picked it up to scrub potatoes and the handle broke apart in my hand. I felt so nostalgic over this brush and the legacy behind it that I had to write its story down. I looked online, there are no Fuller Brush salesmen that come to your door. You can order online or by catalog. There also is no vegetable brush. This is the end of this era. I am thankful for my solitary memory of this long ago tradition and thankful for the 26 year service of a handy and well made gadget that was given to me by a kind man that rang my doorbell.
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